


The Bottle is More Honest

by hooksandheroics



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, and her phone when intoxicated, but then again this wouldn't have happened, clarke should really lay off the shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3584898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hooksandheroics/pseuds/hooksandheroics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Based on the prompt:</b>  "Clarke is a serial drunk dialler, and because she is such a light weight, it takes like two ciders and she is out! She wakes up on morning with bad hangover and her phone blinking at her, she knows she is in trouble. There's the usual missed call from Raven checking on her, but the one she wasn't expecting was bellamy's with the message 'anytime you wanna talk princess, I'm here,' follwed by 'i promise i won't tell o about your crush'. Her ceush, which was on bellamy... fuck" by <a href="http://thatweirdparamedicstudent.tumblr.com">thatweirdparamedicstudent</a>. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bottle is More Honest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacecleavage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacecleavage/gifts).



Clarke is a many splendored things — she’d like to believe every once in a while. All of which, of course, she’s aware of. Like that one time her hard-ass superior called her a ‘pretty decent doctor’, which is about the best she can get from said superior. Or that one time a university professor bought the art she was selling during senior year for some extra bucks and called her ‘an amazing potential’. There’s the occasional ‘pretty’ from drunk friends (Jasper and Monty, always), and often the ‘bad bitch’, lovingly commented by Raven, and that one time someone called her ‘sexy’, and it made all her insides flutter. Not because it’s from a particular someone, but because she’s only seldom called that. Right. That’s it.

(It’s Bellamy — he had said it as an offhanded comment, but she took it to heart alright.)

One thing she doesn’t know, and is probably gonna be held against her for the rest of her life is that she’s a terrible drunk.

And she discovers it one very hungover morning, when the chirp of her phone wakes her from her light slumber. Her eyelids are stuck shut, thanks to her probably forgetting to remove her make up before bed. Seems like she’s forgotten a lot of things, too, because there’s a lot of unread messages in her inbox. All of which are from Raven threatening to gather a rescue party to look for her, and yelling at her in all caps, and then finally an apology, having heard from Octavia that she has left the bar early because she’s a ‘ _freaking lightweight’_.

And then there’s another, after getting through Raven’s, that made her heart stutter and her head pound in panic. She never gets text messages from Bellamy unless it’s about Octavia’s whereabouts — and she knows for a fact that her roommate’s staying at her brother’s place for the weekend so —

_Bellamy: Anytime you wanna talk, princess, I’m here._

She groans because this can’t be good. There’s another one from him but she was already checking her calls. Her hands are sweating when she scrolls up her call logs and — of fucking course — there it is, the name of the bane of her existence as an outgoing call in the middle of the night. She immediately checks the last one and —

_Bellamy: I promise I won’t tell about your crush._

Shit shit shit shit — her phone rings and she only lets out a heavy sigh before answering.

“Raven, holy shit, you won’t believe what I did last night —

“Tell me about it,” a decidedly very male voice, definitely not from Raven, says, and Clarke buries her head on her pillow to hide an embarrassed squeak. 

“Bellamy, why are you calling me so early in the morning?” she says, wanting to sound calm and pissed off and maybe drive him away just for today because she’s totally not feeling up to whatever he’s up to.

There’s a shuffle at the other end of the line, but then, “I wanted to check up on you.” There’s a weird softness to his tone, so very different than the ones he used to use on her. Weird.

“What?”

“You, uh, you apparently were very drunk last night,” he replies. “Told me there’s someone you really like that… if he weren’t your roommate’s brother, you would have…”

“Stop,” she interjects, squeezing her eyes shut because this is definitely a conversation best made when intoxicated, and she’s not going to be able to look at another Cuervo for a long while so, no. “Can we do this some other time?”

“No, Clarke,” he says with a heavy sigh, as if he’s the one burdened with something here. “Hear me out first, please. You told me… that I - he’s a pain in the ass most of the time, but he’s loyal. And beautiful, but not only in a physical kind of way - something about his love for his sister that makes him so…” her breath hitches as he repeats her drunken slur word for word. “And you told me that… that you’re maybe beginning to fall for him, and that he doesn’t look at you the same way.

“And that you don’t want to tell him,” he continues. “Because you don’t want him to stop teasing you —

“Bellamy —

“Clarke — you’re wrong,” he rushes out in a breath. “And I don’t want to tell you that you’re wrong about that last part but right in all the others, especially the beautiful part, over the phone so let me… let me ask you out first.”

“What?” she asks dumbly for the second time that morning.

“On a date,” he repeats firmly. “To tell you that, I need to see you. Sitting across from me in a restaurant. Over drinks. Preferably non-alcoholic, as you so adamantly told me last night.”

“Okay,” she replies, her face now too red that she’s glad nobody’s there to see it.

“Okay?” he says again, as if he’s finding that hard to believe. “I mean - wow, okay, uh, tomorrow night?”

“Sure,” she curtly replies, now letting a big goofy grin take over her face.

She hangs up, and spends the day hungover, but. Yeah. No big deal.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos or a comment on your way out! Thanks for reading. :) Come yell at me on my [tumblr](http://hooksandheroics.tumblr.com)!


End file.
